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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379973">The Perfect Paradise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Not_Hamabi/pseuds/Totally_Not_Hamabi'>Totally_Not_Hamabi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hobbit Oneshots and Others [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Belladonna Took goes on the quest to reclaim Erebor, Angst and Tragedy, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, F/M, Gandalf Knows All, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Bilbo Baggins, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Bilbo Baggins, Young Bilbo Baggins, probably</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:42:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Not_Hamabi/pseuds/Totally_Not_Hamabi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Belladonna Took was dead. Months had passed by without word of her until the wretched letter arrived. Leaving her husband and son wretched. Miserable. Alone.<br/>Forced to leave behind Bag End and travel East, Bilbo Baggins never thought he would see things past the borders of The Shire. He arrives at Dale, seeking a new life in the town in the shadow of a kingdom with its even darker king, seeking the perfect paradise after the hell he has been through.<br/>Of course... that won't be as simple as it sounds.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins &amp; Thorin Oakenshield, Bungo Baggins/Belladonna Took</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hobbit Oneshots and Others [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: Belladonna was gone, missing… then dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to <em>Toucanfly Airlines</em>. This is your captain speaking, Number_Twelve, and I will be your captain during this particular flight. For other flights, please check my profile and scroll down endless options (well, not endless, I guess; at the moment, 96, but let’s not linger on that--). Today’s flight will be to the lands of Middle Earth, so if you don't like that, there's the exit. We are pleased to announce that we won't have to worry about angry dragons, because as far as our crew is concerned, it is not dragon season. However, we advise you to steer clear of giant spiders, orcs, wargs, King Thranduil and other dangers as such during this flight. We also insist that you do not wander off to Mordor, for it is not very safe and the place is infested with Orcs. I-- <em>yes, I’m getting to that</em>-- I also advise that you wear your seatbelts. We will be experiencing angsty turbulence, probable crashing and other things I won’t say because we do not accept refunds. Keep in mind that <em>Toucanfly Airlines</em> is not responsible for any losses or any damage to equipment that belongs to the passengers.<br/>We thank you for your patience. Now, sit back, keep alert, and enjoy the flight!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a mother leaves a husband and son.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilbo had his doubts about going on an adventure. In fact, both he and Bungo had their doubts about going on an adventure-- especially if it was past The Shire's borders. His father, being a Baggins, had very much no desire for an adventure. Bilbo had <em>doubts</em>; he had his mother's curiosity in his blood, the urge of wanting to explore and the want to peek outside The Shire's borders, if not traveling out of it... basically what his father called his "Tookishness". He had inherited it from his mother, Belladonna, and it was true that it had been a lot stronger when he was no more than a faunt bumping into wizards' legs, playing with fireworks and creating his pretend games which often involved him defeating some evil creature in the forest. As for Belladonna, even at an old age, she had been absolutely up for an adventure as soon as the wizard showed up at their door and she had agreed. Bungo had worriedly struggled to convince her to not go.<br/>
She wouldn't hear a word of it.</p><p>"I need to go, my dear. This is my chance, I feel like it is right to go with them. And in addition, I'll be perfectly safe with them. Bilbo, offer me some support, son. Wouldn't you want to come as well?"</p><p>Bilbo had kept his mouth shut. Not only for his father, but also for his mother. He didn't want to say something foolish that would hurt either of his parents, so he remained in silence instead.<br/>
He didn't protest when the dwarves began to show up at the front door.<br/>
He didn't protest as his mother wrapped him into a tight hug along with his father on the morning she left in, but hugged her back and wished her luck like any good son would do. He made her promise she would be back, and she said she would return with new stories to tell, making him feel like a weak, little innocent faunt all over again.<br/>
He didn't protest as he and his father watched her leave with the dwarves, getting further and further away until she was out of sight.</p><p>A long time passed. Bilbo had counted the days since she had been gone, drawing tally marks to mark each day that passed on his bed's wooden head-board, hoping that everytime he drew one, that would give her luck and good will to continue going until she returned to them. Every day, he would check the mail box, hoping to find a letter or two from his mother. At first it was regular, but as the months went, weeks passed during which Bilbo feared the worst until a letter arrived to relieve him. Because each letter meant that she was alive.<br/>
Her letters almost always contained flowers, leaves and things as such, all of which Bilbo kept in a little tin box in his room along with the letters his mother wrote. She spoke of the most unimaginable things: trolls, elves, giant eagles, stone giants and their Thunder-battles... all of which written in such good detail that Bilbo could picture them.<br/>
Eventually the letters stopped arriving. Bilbo told himself that she probably couldn't send them to him, that she was busy with her troubles and that she might have not come across a post office lately. His father was a lot more pessimistic.</p><p>"She might be gone, Bilbo. We shouldn't have let her go on her own." Bungo lamented on one of those days, covering his face in his hands. Bilbo had sat next to him on the couch he was seated on, placing a comforting arm around his father's shoulders.</p><p>"She's not on her own. She's with Gandalf and those dwarves. She's probably busy; there might not be a town with a post office near by."</p><p>Bilbo didn't just say these things for his father, but also to himself. If he believed them-- and he did-- then it would be better than having Bungo's pessimistic views about her adventure.</p><p>Fourteen months passed.<br/>
Not a word.<br/>
Then fifteen. Sixteen. Nineteen.<br/>
And then the letter arrived. </p><p>Bilbo had been in the kitchen preparing lunch when his father went outside to check the mail. Bilbo glanced up, halfway through chopping a potato. But he froze when he saw the envelope Bungo was ripping open. He watched in silence as Bungo's face began to change, grief taking over his expression, his shoulders beginning to sag. Bilbo let the knife drop with a clutter as his father's knees gave away, the much older hobbit collapsing onto the grass outside by their little gate. Bilbo ran to the door, knocking over a bowl of freshly-cut tomatoes. He didn't care. He had to get to his father--<br/>
He slammed the door open and wasted no time in jumping down to his father, kneeling next to him. Bungo sobbed, bent over, shaking.</p><p>"Fa--" Bilbo's voice died when he saw the envelope. It wasn't like his mother's soft paper envelopes and there was a stamp. Bilbo swallowed.</p><p>"Father, wh- what's wrong?" he stammered. His father just shook his head in reply and pushed a paper to him. Bilbo took it in trembling hands. He read the words printed on the clean parchment. Tears welled up and rolled down his cheeks.</p><p>"No. No no no<em>no</em>!" Bilbo turned the paper around in his hands, hoping that it was all just a cruel joke. But the signature at the end of the letter looked real. Everything looked too official.<br/>
Bilbo pressed his fist against his mouth. It couldn't be.</p><p>"Father, this- this is all just a big rouse--" he said, but even then, he knew it wasn't. Grief was ripping open his soul. Tears were pouring out. He felt sick and his vision swam. Everything hurt, all at once.</p><p>"Master Baggins?" that was Hamfast, but he barely even recognized the voice. Bilbo just held out the paper. It was taken from him. A pause filled in with his father's sobs. Then there was a small gasp. "Oh my... I'm so sorry for your loss--"</p><p>Bilbo broke there. He lost all ability to think properly, breaking down into pieces, bending over, hiding his face away from the world. Murmuring was all around him, but he could only think of one thing.</p><p>Belladonna Took... was dead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Traveling to Dale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*intercom turns on* *loud hissing noise* *The cabin door bursts open and the flight’s captain steps out, carrying a writhing little dragon in their hands. They walk to a door, open it and throw the beast out* *Passengers watch as the dragon passes by the plane and out of sight* *captain slams door shut and sighs, turns to the intercom mic by the cabin’s entrance*<br/>Good morning, passengers. This is your captain speaking-- again. Turns out there was a mistake with our crew’s dragon expert-- yes, we do have one of those-- and it turns out that we are flying at the end of dragon season. That means that if we fly straight into a dragon’s mouth, remember that you paid for this flight. As I said before; we don’t accept refunds.<br/>Anyways, today’s skies are clouded, there’s quite a lot of fog and the winds are mourning as summer ends. Soon it shall be autumn, which means that the flight will become bumpy along the way. Stay calm, and just make sure you listen to our crew’s directions. If we somehow come across a dragon, no worries; we have gun expert Vivienne Vadebonceur on board with us and she’s more than willing to give the younger ones a lesson about the different types of guns.<br/>Thank you for your attention.</p><p>[thank you for 4 kudos since yesterday!!]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>“I don’t care about honor! She made a promise! She said she would come back! But you let her die! I don’t see the honor in any of that!” </em><br/>
How it got to that point, he did not know.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>It was soon evident that neither Bilbo nor Bungo could continue living in The Shire, no matter how much they wanted to. Hobbits from other families had been understanding of their losses, but now Bilbo would find younger lasses visiting their door at least twice a day. Bilbo was not stupid, and he instantly understood that the meek gestures and the lash fluttering and the charming smiles they gave her had nothing to do with the lasses’ feelings, but more of the other families’ competition at trying to gain Bag End using him as link.<p>It wasn’t going to work well in their favor, anyways. Bungo had no interest in visits. In fact, it was as if the older hobbit had turned into a ghost. He wandered the halls of Bag End during the nights, waking Bilbo up with his weeping, and during the day he barely ever spoke and remained within the smial or outside in the garden. The younger hobbit was worried for his father’s state. Once, he had been woken up by a loud crash and had ran to the kitchen to find his father standing by the counter, the remains of a broken whisky bottle scattered all over the kitchen floor. Initially, Bilbo had been a little angry, but upon seeing his father’s tear-filled eyes his anger melted away, replaced with sympathy and grief for his mother’s death.</p><p>Belladonna’s presence was missed, but Bilbo sometimes felt as if she were always seated in her favorite armchair in the living room, knitting, humming a little song as she did. Sometimes he saw her, looking at the armchair. She would raise her head and smile at him. Then he would blink and she would be gone. He and Bungo had had an unspoken agreement to not sit on that armchair, leave it vacant for her to enjoy.<br/>
Bilbo wasn’t sure if he should be worried about it, but grief, the pain of loss and the simple fact that he missed his mother kept him from trying to figure out if he was going mad.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>“Bilbo?” said hobbit looked up from the book he was reading, seated on the armchair next to his mothers’. Bungo stood at the door.<p>“Yes?” Bilbo asked. Bungo didn’t say a thing. Bilbo frowned. “Father? Is everything al--?” </p><p>“I sold Bag End.”</p><p>Bilbo sat there, mouth hanging open, his eyebrows raising above his hairline. Of all things that his father could have said, this was the least expected. He swallowed, hoping it was a rouse of some kind.<br/>
But why would his father joke about it?</p><p>“We can’t continue living here.” Bungo continued before Bilbo could think of something to say, shoulders slumping a great deal, looking at his son, seeking understandment. “I sold the house to Drogo and Primula. They will be getting married next month and they will be needing a better house.”</p><p>“But… why…” </p><p>“We need to be with your mother.” </p><p>“Father, I don't under--”</p><p>“They haven’t brought her back, Bilbo!” his father suddenly cried out. “She’s buried in Mahal knows where, alone! We haven’t been able to see her or pay proper respects! We don’t even know how she… how she…” the older hobbit covered his face with a hand, the other flat against the entrance's frame, shoulders trembling. Bilbo stood, leaving the book abandoned on the armchair he had been occupying and hurrying to his father’s side.</p><p>“Father, it’s fine--”</p><p>“I-it’s not-- I-- oh, Bilbo, I miss her--” </p><p>“I know you do, father. So do I.” Bilbo said, wrapping his arms about his father and burying his face in the hobbit’s shoulder. His father wept into his own shoulder, dropping all his weight against Bilbo, who held back the tears that were welling at his eyes, for his father’s benefit. “That’s why I understand your decision.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>Bilbo Baggins never expected what he went through that year. He was always filled with curiosity, even through the scary moments when it was dark and the forests were filled with noises.<br/>They had sold Bag End at a good price to his favorite cousins and taken what they could with them. Not only that, but Gandalf had unexpectedly arrived at their door on the day they prepared to leave.<p>Bilbo had been at the door, carrying out his and his father's pack. He was not sure about how they would travel, but he guessed they could travel with one of the dwarven caravans that passed by Bree every other week, coming from the Blue mountains and from the East.<br/>
That's where they needed to go.<br/>
Bilbo had frozen at the door upon seeing the tall, bearded man dressed in gray standing at the gate. </p><p>"I hope I am not too late, Master Baggins." the wizard said with a sad smile. </p><p>"Ga- Gandalf?" </p><p>And so they had left in company of the gray wizard, who had promised to grant them safe passage to Dale. Bungo hadn't declined the wizard's service, but Bilbo knew that his father had his doubts about the wizard.</p><p>They reached Bree in a couple of days, traveling the fields and the road on foot before buying ponies for the rest of the road.</p><p>The journey was long, tiring and hard. At least, that was for Bungo. The elder hobbit had lost a lot of weight since they had left the safety of the Shire. Gandalf had thought it would be better to travel with a dwarven caravan; neither hobbit had disagreed, for Gandalf was used to his travels but they were not. Bilbo sometimes regretted the choice; dwarves-- or dwarrows, as Gandalf called them-- were loud. Very loud. They were also pretty shameless when it came to showering or taking baths in the river (times during which the hobbits tried to ignore these happenings as much as they could, Gandalf often joining them in their guessing and riddling games). But otherwise, and after a week of having traveled with them, he had found that they were loyal, good friends and safe to be arround if you were careful.</p><p>Bilbo asked many questions during the journey. He had been reluctant to leave the Shire, but he could have never imagined what laid on the other side of its borders. His curiosity was hard to keep in check, and he had to hold back questions by keeping his mouth firmly shut (they would come out sooner or later anyways). As a young-ish hobbit (he had turned forty-six a few months back) and a scholar, he was intrigued by the new world around him. Even if he sometimes wished for the comforts of home.<br/>
Bungo, being a full Baggins, didn't have the same views.<br/>
The elder hobbit always looked tired, lamenting having sold Bag End.</p><p>"Oh, how I wish I had kept an armchair to take with us, Bilbo," he told his son.</p><p>"It would have been too heavy to carry..."</p><p>"Well, the dwarves' goats look like they could carry the entire sofa."</p><p>Bilbo's questions had also started to irritate him. At first, he had been the one receiving them, but Bilbo had found that the more he asked, the more he grew tired and in bad mood. Instead, he turned to Gandalf for answers. It didn't always work; Gandalf tended to have riddle-like answers instead of actual, straightforward answer. So Bilbo had kept the majority locked in his head, asking whichever questions he knew or thought would lead to a straightforward answer.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>Many months passed before they were able to se eyes on Dale, the town in the mountain's shadow. The mountain itself towered over the land below it, its peak dissapearing into the clouds. Bilbo stood next to his father, staring at the mountain with fascination. Gandalf had spoken to them about housing; there were no hobbit holes in Dale, but if they wished, they could live in a regular house like the humans that lived in the city, and perhaps make a new hobbit hole later on when they settled down. Bilbo doubted they would be able to make a smial in the first place. The land was rocky, far from the good conditions to make a smial in. Of course, living in a regular house wouldn't be the same, but they would deal with what they had.<div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>Dale... was not Hobbiton.<br/>The streets were gray, the houses were gray… almost everything lacked color. Even the people, Bilbo thought, looked gray.<br/>The hobbit had gone out to the streets to seek the house in the direction that Gandalf had given him (a few words, written on a slip of old parchment). His father was at an Inn they would spend the first few days at while they got the house ready to live in, and Bilbo had been given the task to find this house.<br/>Bilbo had assumed it would be like picking berries or looking for the rifht mushrooms.<br/>It was far from that.<br/>His feet were always in danger of being trodden on, either by a hoof or a human foot. And everything around him was just so <em>big</em>. The houses on the sides of the streets were massive, there were barrels against a few doors (for garbage cans, he guessed, or compost. He soubted the latter of its uses), and the people passing him were huge; he was like a tiny, black sheep among bigger white ones.<br/>It wasn't a very nice sensation, but he had to suck it up and get used to it. While he house-hunted, Gandalf was at the mountain, requesting an audience with the king and his Company (the dwarves, Bilbo thought, that had been with Belladonna during the months during which she had been gone) so that the hobbits could be informed about Belladonna.<p>Bilbo sighed to himself and suddenly yelped, hoping of the way of a human fauntling (if that's what they were called) raced past him. His back collided with something.<br/>
Well, someone.</p><p>"S-sorry!" he squeaked, hopping away. A dwarf looked around at him, having been interrupted from his conversation with a man.<br/>
Bilbo left, a dark flush spreading over his face as he felt the dwarve's eyes on his back, hands fisted at his sides.</p><p>No, house-hunting was not like berry picking at all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. An Audience with The King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking.<br/>First of all, as the captain I would like to apologize for that flock of birds that nearly collided with the engines earlier this morning. We are flying over wild lands and I'm afraid that birds are insolent around these parts and will fly into almost anything they wish to.<br/>The winds are currently calm for the most part, but we've realized that there shall be a storm further up ahead. Listen to the crew's directions for it will get a lot worse from here and on. If you wish to leave, the exits are signaled on the little disco lights on the floor besides each seat. We are not responsible for any injuries you may get on the way out, but we would rather not have to suffer any, ah, casualties.<br/>Stay calm and seated and enjoy your flight with <em>Touncanfly Airliness</em>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilbo stood on the street, looking up at an old-looking house. He had expected it to look worse than it actually was, but other than the fact that it was missing a garden and that it wasn't a smial, it looked decent. He checked the paper once more to make sure that this was the house before moving up to the steps and rapping on the door. Footsteps came from inside and the door opened to show a woman wearing a woollen hat and coat over an old, faded lavender purple dress. She looked down at Bilbo for a moment, mouth slightly open before she snapped it shut and gave her head a small shake.</p><p>"How can I help you?" she asked the hobbit.</p><p>"We wanted to rent this house. Gandalf the Gray made an appointment so I could see it. He gave me this direction." Bilbo replied in a pleasant tone, holding up the paper. The woman took it and scanned it.</p><p>"Oh, this ain't the house you're looking for." she said, giving the paper back to him. "The one you need is over there," she crouched a little, pointing to a house not far from hers. Bilbo turned to see the house, which was noticeably smaller and a lot more... homely. Bilbo blinked and then turned around to look at the woman once more.</p><p>"My bad. Sorry to disturb you." he said, feeling a little silly. She smiled kindly.</p><p>"Oh, that's fine. And before you go, if I may ask; you're not a dwarf, right?"</p><p>"Mahal, no!" Bilbo said with a small chuckle. "I'm a hobbit."</p><p>"I'm... I don't believe I know what you mean?"</p><p>"A hobbit of the Shire. I come from the West." he added when the woman just looked more confused. </p><p>"Ohhh, so you're a westron!" she nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, sir, I hope that you enjoy your stay in Dale. Things are bound to get better soon, you'll see."</p><p>"Thank you. Good day." Bilbo turned and walked down the stairs as the door shut behind him. That's when he let himself loose a little of his composture, cursing at himself for having gotten the directions mixed up.<br/>
Well, there was not much to do about it, since it had happened.<br/>
He approached the house, which was far smaller than the other, with stone walls, several creeper plants growing close to the entrance. Bilbo paused to examine their blooming, purple flowers, plucking one to keep in the little tin box. He slipped it into a pocket of his vest as he climbed up the stairs of the small porch and the rapped on the door, hoping that this would be the house. The door opened almost immediately, but this time it was by aa dwarf. </p><p>"Balin, at your service." the dwarf said before Bilbo could offer a greeting, bowing down.</p><p>"Oh-- Uh, Bilbo Baggins, at yours." Bilbo stammered.</p><p>"I suppose you are here for the house?"</p><p>"Well, ye--"</p><p>"Excelent. We've already bought it for you; signed the contract and everything a week ago. It's just missing your signature and then it's done."</p><p>"Wait a second. What do you mean? Gandalf sent me here to buy it myself--"</p><p>"Ah, well, as a friend of the hobbit Belladonna Took, King Thorin decided to secure it for you before anyone else did when he heard that her familiars were coming from The Shire. Consider it a gift." the dwarf added. Bilbo frowned.</p><p>"King Thorin?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"He... bought the house…?"</p><p>"Come inside, laddie; I'll explain and show you around a little."</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>"Did you know that the king himself bought the house for us?" Bilbo said as he sat next to his father on the sofa of their room at the inn. Bungo looked away from the wall he had been staring for some time now to look at Bilbo with a frown.<p>"What king?"</p><p>"King Thorin. From the dwarves in the mountain."</p><p>"Oh. Didn't Gandalf go to request a visit or something? To see the king?"</p><p>"He did." Bilbo said, taking out his pipe and fidling with the tobacco before lighting it. He took a puff off it. "I don't know why he hasn't come to see us himself if Mother was a friend of his."</p><p>"Bah. He's probably got his kingly duties and all that. And anyways, Gandalf said we would be seeing him tomorrow. You can ask him then." Bungo said, as if the king were just a regular citizen or some familiar they had never met before. Bilbo hummed but remained in silence, watching the smoke waft up and out of sight.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>They were to have a hearing with the king and the members of his company that morning. Gandalf had arrived with the news the previous day in time for dinner.<br/>Bilbo looked at himself in the mirror, straightening the collar of his shirt and buttoning up a leaf-green vest he had brought with him. He would also be wearing a warm-orange coat, along with his brown shorts. He glanced out the window. The skies were clouded. Winter was due to arrive soon. Bilbo wondered how winter would be; back in Hobbiton, they had been pleasant because they had had enough to live with, along with plenty of space to stay in while shut inside the smial.<br/>He looked away from the window, pushing away the memories of home and instead concentrating on making himself look neat, drapping a woollen scarf around his neck and pulling on a hat over his bronze curls.<p>"Bilbo, are you ready?" Gandalf called from the other room.</p><p>"Almost. I just need to get ahold of my handkerchief," Bilbo replied, turning to look at the bedside table. There was his handkerchief. He took it, neatly folded it and slipped it into his shorts' pockets. He then walked out of the bedroom he and Bungo had been sharing until then.<br/>
Bungo himself was standing next to Gandalf, wearing a brown overcoat over a gray vest and shorts. Bilbo nodded to him, hoping that his father would be fine to walk all the way up to the mountain.</p><p>They left the inn, Gandalf leading the way with the two hobbits hurrying along behind. Bilbo looked about to find that the streets were emptier than they had been the previous day. Shops and stands were only just opening and an hour or so was ahead of them before the town would fully wake. Bilbo was glad that the streets were emptier since he didn't have to worry about his feet getting trodden on or having to fall over and getting stepped on. They walked through the streets, the hobbits ignoring the curious looks they were given: most-- probably all-- people had never seen a hobbit, let alone two like Bilbo and Bungo and in the company of a tall, gray figure.</p><p>They reached the edge of the town to find a large plain separating them from the front gates of the Mountain of Erebor. Bilbo took a second to admire the huge statues guarding the entrances of the cave, seemingly carved out the mountain itself, which they probably did. He then hurried after Bungo and Gandalf, both of whom were a few steps away. </p><p>The grass was cold, the morning due wetting the soles of their feet. Bungo mumbled something about this, saying that back in The Shire it hadn't been that cold. The closer they came to the mountain's gate, the more nervous the elder hobbit grew. He looked back at his son, words of comfort on his tongue to find that Bilbo didn't look scared or nervous; in fact, he looked calm, almost at ease. Bungo looked away, causing for Bilbo to frown a little.<br/>
His son did not realize, but he had just reminded old Bungo of his wife once more. She always had that expression on her face when they were younger; she would get herself into adventures she convinced Bungo to join into (they always ended with him swearing to himself that he would never go on another adventure, but it turned out that Belladonna was quite persuasive when it came to her husband). Bungo Baggins shook his head a little, but was unable to push the memories away. He wanted to keep them with him, keep a part of Belladonna with him even if it saddened him to think of her.</p><p>They reached the gate, a huge, wooden outpost put between the stone arches with th gate at the center bottom. Four dwarves watched them approach from on top.</p><p>"State your business at Erebor!" one of them shouted down.</p><p>"We've come to see the King under the Mountain. He expects us." Gandalf called back up. The dwarves looked at each other, said several things in their language. The dwarf who had spoke looked back at them as another disappeared behind the gate. They waited for several seconds before the gate was pulled open by the same dwarf and another, standing aside as the wizard led the way in. Bilbo looked around without appearing too rude, trying not to stare.</p><p>"This way to the throne room." One of the dwarves said, gesturing them to follow him. </p><p>"We know the way. Thank you." Gandalf said, sweeping past. The hobbits hurried after, Bilbo making sure he stood close to Bungo. He glance back at the dwarf, who had hesitated before following after.</p><p>Gandalf led the way up a flight of stairs, then another and then through various passage ways that Bilbo was unable to keep track of. They passed dwarves on the way there, all of which turned to look at them pass by. Bilbo felt a little overwhelmed by all the eyes on him, so he kept his head on Gandalf's back. They reached a pair of great, wooden doors studded with silver. Gandalf ignored the guards on either side, pushing them open himself easily.<br/>
Bilbo thought that the wizard liked his dramatics.</p><p>They entered a large, spacious room. A long table was set, at which sat many dwarves. Silence fell as Gandalf swept into the room gracefully, followed by the two hobbits (both of whom stuck close behind Gandalf and almost out of sight).</p><p>"King Thorin," Gandalf said with an acknowledging nod, tapping his long, wooden staff on the stone floor and standing straight. Bilbo peered out to look at the dwarves.<br/>
He instantly recognized Balin, the dwarf who had shown him the jouse and gotten him to sign the contract.<br/>
He also picked out a familiar face sitting at the head of the table.<br/>
The dwarf he had bumped into was...<br/>
Bilbo nearly lost composture at the realization.</p><p>"Gandalf," the king said, returning the nod. "You requested and audience, and we shall give it to you. And the hobbits? I thought you said that they wished to speak to me and the Company."</p><p>"Here," Gandalf replied, moving aside to reveal Bungo (who seemed to have second thoughts about having come) and Bilbo (who had been unable to drop the shocked expression on his face). Bilbo straightened his back as the king's eyes moved onto him. He bowed.</p><p>"Bilbo and Bungo Baggins, at your service." he said as confidently as he could.</p><p>"Thorin Oakenshield, at yours." the king replied. "Come sit. We have matters to discuss."</p><p>"I will wait outside. I don't wish to intrude." Gandalf said. Thorin nodded, and before Bilbo could convince the wizard otherwise, he was already walking back out the door.<br/>
They were on their own now.</p><p>Bilbo felt thirteen pairs of eyes on him as he walked to the table, Bungo following after hesitantly. They took seats at the other side, being small enough to fit comfortable on the other end toguether. Bilbo then realized that the dwarves were all looking at them with both sadness and pity in their eyes.</p><p>"I'm trully sorry for your loss." The king said. "Belladonna was a good friend to us and it was heartbreaking to have lost her. It must have been a lot worse on the two of you."</p><p>"It was. Thank you." Bilbo said, keeping his voice in check. Bungo remained in silence.</p><p>"I believe you are her son?"</p><p>"I am. He is my father and my mother's husband." Bilbo said, gesturing to his father. Thorin hummed.</p><p>"I see. Do you wish for anything? Water? Wine?"</p><p>"We are good. Thank you." Bilbo replied. Thorin nodded.</p><p>"What do you want to know?"</p><p>"Why did Belladonna pass and how it happened." Bilbo responded.</p><p>"And where she is now." Bungo added quietly. The dwarves exchanged looks.</p><p>"Bofur. You were there." one of the dwarves said, nudging a dwarf sitting to their right wearing a strange hat. The dwarf glanced at the king, who nodded.</p><p>"She remained with us until the very end. She was able to deal with Smaug the dragon an' help us reclaim Erebor. But then there was a battle." Bofur told them. "I suppose ya know what Orcs are?" The hobbits shook their heads. "They are the commom enemy. It applies to almost every creature in Middle Earth. They were coming for war, an' they gave it to us. We were winning, even if the odds had been piled on us at the beginning. Belladonna fought bravely and well. She... she died on the battlefield."</p><p>"How? Why?" Bungo suddenly asked. Bilbo felt his father's fingers close around his hand. He placed his other hand over it, giving it a comforting squeeze.</p><p>"An orc killed her. I tried to help her, but it was too late. She died minutes later because we were unable to get her medical help on time." Bofur bowed his head. "I feel ashamed an' I regret not havin' been by her side. Then perhaps I could have saved her. I'm really sorry."</p><p>Bilbo nodded slowly. "And her body?"</p><p>"You won't like this." Thorin said. Bilbo frowned. "It was lost. We don't know how, but we were unable to find it."</p><p>Bungo suddenly chocked out a sob, the older hobbit folding over himself, shoulders trembling. That had been the last straw to it. Bilbo looped an arm around his father.<br/>
Sadness welled up inside, pouring out of him through his eyes. He wiped the tears away, feeling like he would break at any moment.</p><p>"She died a honorable death." Thorin was saying. But the hobbit wasn't even listening. His head was swimming.<br/>
She had died.<br/>
Because of them.</p><p>"What do you know about honor?" he asked, his voice stony as he looked up at the king, his eyes filled with pain and... something akin to hate. "What do you know about it? She had family. She had a husband and a son. You've left us both alone without her. We left behind our old lives so we could be with her and now-- now you tell us she can't even get a decent burial?"</p><p>"Mister Baggi--"</p><p>Bilbo stood up suddenly, pulling up his father with him. </p><p>"Bilbo--"</p><p>"No, father." he murmured before turning back to the shocked dwarves. "You don't know what you've just caused, let alone even realize it." he stood there, bristling. The door had opened and he realized he must have been shouting. He felt Gandalf's eyes on him, Bungo's trembling on his side--</p><p>"And you know what? I don't care about honor! She made a promise. She said she woukd come back! But you let her die! I don't see <em>honor</em> in any of that." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Thank you for the house. Good day." with that, he spun around, striding out of the throne room and dragging his father along with him. Not a word was heard, even after he had left. Gandalf looked at the dwarves with a strange look before following the hobbits out.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A New Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, no airline announcements today (the captain is bussy having her afternoon coffee). Instead, I offer a little note to you all.<br/>Originally, I was considering not to update today, but decided against it. However, the chapter is shorter than the previous ones. No worries; I'll try make the next longer. <br/>I've named this chapter "A New Start", since in a few hours it shall be 2021 (I can't really believe it XD) and this story is linked to getting a new start and adjusting to a new situation. Well, in fact, the story's about a couple of hobbits having to get used to their new life, so it makes sense.<br/>So let me tell you this: find your new start this year. Don't be afraid of change, try new things, live a little more than you already do.<br/>After all, change is part of human nature.<br/>Happy (late) New Year!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Moving into the new house was not too challenging. Bilbo and Bungo had brought little things with them, not enough to even fill in the smallest of the rooms in the house. Bungo was in charge of making the house hospitable and clean; Bilbo would deal with getting new furtniture.<br/>
Bilbo found himself waking up earlier than he would on a regular day the following day after they had moved into the house. He and his father had set their sleeping bags in the living room and had slept there. Only Mahal knew where the wizard had gone off to, but he had promised to be back around nightfall. Bilbo looked at his sleeping father for a few moments before carefully and silently getting to his feet, tiptoing to one of the bedrooms where he had kept his clothes. He changed into a casual attire: a white shirt with a yellow vest over it, brown trousers and the same coat from the previous day. As he dressed, he wondered why he hadn't been arrested yet. Only then had he realized how rash (and rude) his outburst had been-- and in front of the King! But Bilbo didn't regret it; those dwarves deserved it.<br/>
He took the pouch with the money Bungo had given him to buy the furtniture and anything else, exiting the house in silence. He walked through Dale's mostly empty streets, wondering what he should do first. He eventually concluded that he would do best in going to a carpenter to order the wooden things. He did that, managing to get two beds (decent good quality beds), a few wardrobes and a small table for a good price. The caroenter let him know that it would take him at least two days to complete all.</p><p>Bilbo then went through all the other shops; he bought a floral wallpaper from a shop that sold "unusual" things (how could wallpaper be unusal?), along with a few plush pillows and bedsheets. He returned to the house a couple of hours later to drop the things off to find that Bungo had woken up and was nibbling on an apple. Bilbo greeted him gently before saying that he had to leave quick and see what else he could get them, along with a decent meal. Bungo nodded without much to say and Bilbo then took his leave.</p><p>He spent the entire morning walking around Dale, skipping a good breakfast and snacking on a few almonds he had bought. His stomach rumbled, but he was set on getting his job done.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>By the time they received the furtniture that Bilbo had gotten to be made by the carpenter, the house already had imprnt of the hobbits that were to live in it. The walls were covered in besutiful wallpapers, a few carpets had been added to add warmth to the cold floor, a few flowers had been arranged in pots and Bilbo had dedicated an entire room of the house-- the one woth the most light-- to use as a little garden to cultivate what he jad brought from the shire. He had neatly areanged pots by the window sills (varying in size and color) and had done his best to make it look better than it did. He stopped by a small shop with gardening goods (it was in danger of shutting down, since nkt many chose to garden in Dale) and bought a generous amount of both seeds and plants.<br/>Soon the room was greener than it had been before.<p>As for Bungo, the older hobbit was slowly going back into his previous, worrying state. While Bilbo was out and about Dale, the elder hobbit stayed holed up in the house, choosing to avoid the men outside his door for a little longer until he got ised to this new reality. Of course, once the house was better to live in, Bilbo did not just go oit to buy goods; he took his time to explore the town, walking down streets and watching people pass. As the days passed, people eventually learned to get used to the strange, smaller creature among them. He was just another civillian doing a daily routine.<br/>
Of course, that didn't mean that the interest and curiosity people held for him disappeared completely.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pouring Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Notes</p>
</div>If you are reading my other The Hobbit fic I am also working on (King Under The Mountain), then you are familiar with the Notes section disorder.<br/>I don't appreciate this, Ao3--<p>Anyways, I've also skipped today's airline announcement because I have a couple of announcements to make.<br/>First of all is that updates will be slow to arrive, starting on the <strong>3rd of January</strong> because that's when classes begin and I'll have less time. However. I'm not planning on dropping out on this anytime soon until it is done; expect at least one chapter (or two) per week.<br/>And probably extra long to make up for it XD<br/>Second is that I'm actually really happy with how this is going. When I started writing this, I doubted I would be able to do what I expected to do, but so far, it's actually going well because people are reading it <em>and</em> commenting (<strong>Vacationsplease</strong>, <strong>cpmwjune</strong>, yes, I'm talking about the two of you--), which is far more than I could have hoped for.<br/>Anyways.<br/>Let's get onto it--</p><p>(This is gonna sound strange, but I wrote this listening to "Swing What You Got" [extended remix], lol)</p>
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    <p>Snow began to fall as time went on. Well, it had already started snowing earlier, but it had started to snow in great quantities. Bilbo watched the streets quickly be carpeted in white, snow falling from the clouded sky. There were people outside despite the terrible cold; Bilbo suspected they were used to it.</p><p>"Bilbo, son, will you put some more wood in the fire? I feel like the tips of my curls may freeze at any moment." Bungo called from the living room.</p><p>"Coming," Bilbo replied, putting down the knife he had been using to chop potatoes with. He went to the livingroom, where his father was comfortably curled up on one of the armchairs with a book in his hands. Bilbo pulled out some more firewood from the basket by the fireplace, putting it into the stone "box" and prodding it until it too got caught on fire.</p><p>"I'll have to go get more if we plan on making it through the winter," Bilbo commented as he watched the flames lick up the wood. Soon it would be stormy to set foot outside.</p><p>"Can't we just get Gandalf to change the weather? And where is he anyways?" Bungo whined. Bilbo frowned.</p><p>"To tell the truth, Father, I honestly don't know. But he's a wizard. He can take care of himself."<br/>
Bungo muttered something before returning his attention to the book. Bilbo returned to the kitchen.</p><p>Two weeks and five days had passed since their arrival. So far, the weather had gotten worse. The house, however, was slowly gaining a homely atmosphere. Bilbo had hung up a few artworks of grassy fields and hills covered in flowers he had bought from the same shop he had gotten the wallpaper from. His father had spent hours saying how he wished to be back at the Shire after Bilbo had brought the paintings with him. His son couldn't blame him for longing, but it got a little tiresome after a while until Bilbo just left the house to do their shopping.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>Bilbo had gone out.<br/>Big mistake.<br/>He had just stepped out when the door suddenly slammed shut due to the wind, the sudden slam causing snow from the roof to fall down all over the front entrance and Bilbo. The hobbit had managed to free himself (he had never felt so panicked and cold), but the door was blocked.<br/>He was stuck outside for some time.<br/>He tried digging away the snow, but it was freezing and after a few seconds of doing so his hands were numb and cold. He tried to call for his father, but the whooshing of the wind drowned his voice. Minutes passed during which he hoped thst his father would notice he was gone.<br/>But it didn't happen.<p>Bilbo found himself sitting outside his door on the snow, hands tightly wrapped around himself as he shivered with cold. Well, he was going to die. Frozen to death. He shut his eyes and buried his head in the space his arms and knees made.</p><p>"Are ya alright?" he looked up to find a dwarf standing before him. He knew him. Several seconds passed before he recognized the hat and the face; and not to mention the voice.<br/>
The same dwarf that had apparently seen his mother die.<br/>
As much as he wanted to snap at him, he knew that it would mean he would freeze to death out in the cold. And he didn't want to be rude either...</p><p>"I- I got locked out--" he stammered, teeth chattering as he spoke. The dwarf's eyes widened in understanding.</p><p>"'re, lemme help ya," he said. The dwarf walked over to him, taking off his jacket and handing it to the hobbit. Bilbo was too cold to refuse it as the dwarf examined the snow. He dug at some of it before yanking at the door. It opened a few inches, the dwarf using his hands to pry it open with a little grunt. </p><p>"There," he said, moving aside to let Bilbo walk in. Bilbo nodded with a small, quiet "Thank you". He pushed the door a little more open and slipped inside.</p><p>"Oh, your jacket." he said, taking it off and giving it to the dwarf. "Do you, uh, would you like some tea?"</p><p>"No, that's fine." the dwarf said with a grin as he pulled the coat back on. Bilbo nodded and the dwarf bid him a fgood day, walking away and dissapearing down a corner.<br/>
Bilbo was left at his door, stunned.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>[I know, I know. The chapter could have definitely been longer, but I felt it was better to just leave it at that...]</strong>
</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Under Ice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Good evening (or morning or afternoon, whichever you're on, lmao--), passengers.<br/>This is your captain speaking once more. We've crossed the storm, but, alas, weather forecasters are never acfurate and we will be entering another one in little less than, well… the weather forecasters also kept that away.<br/>Anyways, remember that we do not accept refunds.</p><p>[Heya, guys! Just wanted to let you all know that the days for updates on this fic will be-- drumroll, please!-- Monday aaaaaand Thursday! Hope to see you then!]</p>
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    <p>Winter at the Shire had always been a pleasant thing to experience when a hobbit had his fire place stocked high with wood and a roaring fire to sit in front of.<br/>
Bilbo and Bungo Baggins did have a fire, but it was as if the coldness all around them had gotten rid of half its warmth. They had been able to move the small couch in front of the fire-- as close as it could be without catching on fire-- and were now huddled together for warmth underneath a furry blanket.<br/>
Bilbo  barely managed to keep his teeth from chattering, but Bungo was worse.</p><p>"Oh, Bilbo," he had whined, dramatically falling limp against Bilbo's side, "I swear to Mahal that this will be the last winter for us! I feel as if my blood were turning to ice! My legs ache! And I've been sneezing all morning long."</p><p>Bilbo, unknowing about what to say, simply patted the back of his father's head and burrowed closer to him, imagining that he was back to being a little faunt burrowed like that in his mother and father's arms.<br/>
But Belladonna was gone, Bilbo was grown, and what sense of security he had had when he was little with his father had changed greatly.</p><p>He really did wonder if they would be able to make it through the winter, or if they would freeze to death.<br/>
He hoped that the latter would never happen to him, not while his father needed his help.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>oOo</p>
</div>It stopped snowing one day.<br/>Bilbo had woken up on his mattress to hear the loud snoring of his father by his side. He remembered having dragged both mattresses there so they could both sleep by the fire. Bilbo layed awake for a little longer and then noticed that the usually harsh, loud wind had quieted down. He slipped out of his make-shift bed and padded to one of the windows. It had stopped snowing, the remaining snow gray-ish with dirt and dust from the ground. He took a few minutes to look around at this new scenary; houses' roofs covered in blankets of snow, the sky clouded and dark, a soft breeze blowing through the empty streets. Bilbo turned away after he had done his share of staring. He glanced back at his father. He didn't want to leave him alone, but they were running low on food and he didn't want to bother his sleep.<p>So he quickly changed into fresh, warm clothes, exiting the house.</p><p>He was dismayed to see that most-- if not all-- of the shops in Dale were closed. He tried the market, but the stalls had been covered and left there until they could be used once more by their merchants. He knew that it would be a while before the shops opened, and he didn't want to have to wait it out in the house while he could go outside.</p><p>Bilbo wandered Dale for some time. A small town, it looked like a winter paradise to Bilbo. Well, not a paradise. It reminded him of one of his mother's snowglobes that she had kept in her small ffice, on top of her desk. It was one of the few things she hadn't allowed Bilbo to touch as a faunt, afraid he would accidentally drop it. But to make up for it, she would tell him stories of the scene forever captured within the glass.</p><p>Bilbo remembered this just as he reached the gates to the town. There were a couple of guards by the entrance in their guard posts, eyeing him a little suspiciously before returning their attention to the game of sherades they had been playing to keep themselves entertained with.<br/>
Bilbo stepped out onto the town's rough, mountain path. He walked for quite a while, always keeping the town in sight as well as the mountain. Before he knew it, his Took side had taken himover and he was wandering further and further away from Dale, climbing up and high. He reached a large, rocky hill. Well, it looked like a hill to him. There was an abandoned tower there as well, which Bilbo eyed both warily and curiously. He decided he wouldn't risk getting squashed by a falling stone and instead continued walking with care, looking about him and taking careful steps.</p><p>Soon he reached a large lake. Bilbo had never seen a frozen lake outside the Shire, but... it had a wild tinge to it. The surface glinted in the soft light and it stretched out quite far. Bilbo carefully stepped on it, testing the ice.<br/>
It seemed to hold.<br/>
The hobbit continued to walk, aiming for the rocky side where he could see what lay on the other side. He didn't know why he was doing this, just that he really, really wanted to. He slowed down upon hearing a large snap underneath him. He backed away to see a small line spider its way across the smotth surface. He remained stock still.<br/>
Wrong choice.</p><p>The ice suddenly broke under his weight. The hobbit yelped and then screamed with fright and pain a freezing cold water his his skin, hitring himself against the jagged ends of the new hole. He scrabbled for purchase, trying to drag himself out... but he didn't know how to swim.<br/>
Fear was attacking him from every corner as he gasped for breath. He kicked his legs, but it just seemed to make him sink even lower. He gave one last desperate pull and then slipped underneath the ice, only just managing to inhale sharply before he could run out of air. There was a slight sting to his side and he saw a little of the water around him turn red. Or was it brown? He tried to push himself up but his hands touched ice. His nerves on fire, he hammered on the ice, hoping that it would break. He was running out of breath.<br/>
He was going to die.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, father, I'm so sorry--</em>
</p><p>He shut his eyes just as something grabbed the back of his coat, pulling him up. Mahal.<br/>
Mahal had finally come for him.</p>
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